Jayce & Emma Page 6

  “What?” Daniel asked, amused. “You were late, the second time this week. You’re never late. It doesn’t take a lot to put the pieces together.”

  Jayce couldn’t deny that. “I’m getting increasingly more impatient sitting in this car for hours, with no result other than the need for a good chiropractor.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it. Kitty asks if you guys wanted to come for dinner on Sunday.”

  “Sure. Drinks on Friday?”

  “Not sure. I think I’ll want to spend the first night off at home.”

  “Just for an hour or so? I was going to bring Emma…I think she’d be more comfortable if there was another familiar face.”

  “I think you worry too much,” he pointed out. “Emma will be fine.”

  “Yes, I know. I don’t want to take any chances.”

  “All right then. An hour.”

  “Thanks,” she said, relieved. “You’re the best.”

  “Any chance the best is going to get some fresh coffee?”

  Jayce was out of the car before she even answered. “Your chances are excellent. You have no idea how much I wanted to get out of here.”

  “Oh, I do,” Daniel mumbled. “You only told me ten times or so.”

  Jayce held up her index finger in warning. “Don’t push your luck. You don’t want me to come back with decaf.”

  There was no other customer in the corner store on the other side of the street. Jayce thought it would be beyond irony if their suspect showed up right this moment. She got a black coffee for herself and a caramel latte, Daniel’s favorite. Just thinking about the sweet concoction made her teeth hurt. She added a couple of donuts to her purchase, wincing at the cliché. Everything would be better once they were back to the day shifts, even their diet.

  She paid for food and beverages to an exhausted looking store owner and turned to leave, nearly colliding with the customer who had come in, twenty-something, shaggy blond hair, hands buried in the pockets of his read sweater. Jayce couldn’t believe her eyes.

  Calmly, she put her bag and coffee back on the counter. “I realize I forgot something,” she told the owner, before turning to the other man, badge in hand.

  “Nathan Dolby, you’re under arrest for the attempted murder of…”

  He had nowhere to run, but that didn’t keep him from trying. With the shelf behind him and the door his only possible exit to escape, he had no choice but to run right into her, tackling them both to the floor.

  Being only mildly surprised by his desperate attempt, Jayce had time to react and put the cuffs on him before he could scramble to his feet. “Could have told you that wasn’t a good idea. You’re not that fast.” He glared at her as she notified Daniel.

  “I didn’t do anything. You can’t arrest me just like that.”

  “Oh, I can, but let’s talk about that at the station. Thanks, by the way—for finally showing up. It’s all right,” Jayce assured the owner who stood, a few feet back, looking alarmed. “My partner is around the corner. We really need that coffee now…It’s going to be a long night.”

  As Daniel walked in, she snuck a sip from her cup, wincing at the pull in her shoulder. A long hot bath and a couple of Tylenol would hopefully do the trick, sometime in the morning.

  “Look, man, I did nothing,” Nathan tried again during the drive back to the city.

  “We will talk about this,” Jayce said. “I could think of something not so smart you did ten minutes ago. Besides, trying to club your psychiatrist over the head on the day you have an appointment with him, and leaving the bat behind—also not smart.”

  He shook his head. “You got it all wrong. I only ran because I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

  “Well, that didn’t help. Don’t worry, you’ll have a chance to explain all of it.”

  “You got the wrong guy. Dr. Simmons is the bad guy here.”

  They had arrived at the station where Nathan would be off to booking. Jayce wondered if Chomsky was still in the building and could be convinced that letting him wait a bit would convince him to do the right thing.

  Five minutes later, she stood in Chomsky’s office, trying not to fidget under her supervisor’s critical gaze.

  “I heard it got a bit violent. Shouldn’t you have stopped by the hospital?”

  “Oh, no, it was nothing. I’d just like to give him some time to think this over before we have the talk with him.” Who had told her? She’d have to have a word with Daniel—but that could definitely wait until tomorrow.

  “Has he asked for a lawyer?”

  Jayce shook her head. At this moment, Daniel came in, quietly closing the door behind him.

  “We’re ready,” he said.

  “Let him know what we’ve got,” Chomsky told them. “Tomorrow, we get in the DA, and his attorney, and we can wrap this up. Good work, Finney.”

  “Thanks, Boss.”

  Jayce suppressed a sigh. It didn’t look like she was going to get out of here anytime soon.

  “Friday…”

  “Can’t come soon enough, I know,” Daniel finished her sentence as they made their way to the interrogation room. “Come on, let’s get this done. I’m sure Kitty won’t mind if Emma comes in a little later tomorrow.”

  Instead of rewarding the implication with an answer, she shook her head and smiled. It was a good thing she wasn’t always this transparent.

  * * * *

  Jayce felt only slightly guilty for keeping Emma up past her bedtime. Emma’s hands, warm and gentle, felt heavenly on her shoulders, back, and everywhere they touched.

  “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

  Just not tonight, because she was already half asleep. A chiropractor wasn’t necessary after all, not when she had a sympathetic girlfriend to come home to, something, Jayce admitted to herself, she could get used to easily.

  “That’s okay. I wasn’t sleeping.” That might be a little white lie. Emma had sounded sleepy over the phone, but once Jayce heard her voice, she couldn’t help herself.

  “You caught the guy. Congratulations.”

  “Yeah. Strange case. He didn’t give us much of a challenge in the end, but he still claims he went at the doctor in self-defense, hitting him over the read right there at the clinic.” Emma halted for a moment, reminding Jayce she was the first to know that things weren’t always what they seemed to be. If someone looked guilty, it didn’t always mean they were. Jayce was convinced though that Emma and Nathan Dolby had nothing in common. The statements of Dr. Simmons and his employees all pointed in the same direction. “I’m sorry. You don’t need that kind of image in your head.”

  “It’s okay. I’m glad you’re here.” Even exhausted as she was, Jayce couldn’t ignore the forlorn tone of Emma’s voice. She turned around, and Emma lay down next to her.

  “What’s going on? You’re not still nervous about Friday night? We don’t have to go if you don’t want to. Dinner at home will be fine, since we have something on Sunday apparently.”

  “No, that’s not it. I’m okay. Don’t worry.” Emma gave her a wistful smile. “I guess I’m a bit stressed whenever you’re around people who swing baseball bats at others.”

  “Well, he’s not swinging anything at anyone right now. Thanks for harboring me on such short notice. Let’s get some sleep now, okay?”

  Emma settled into her embrace without objection, and a moment later, Jayce slipped into the deep uninterrupted sleep she’d been hoping for.

  Despite Daniel’s reassurances, Emma was up early, already dressed for work when Jayce was barely awake, only now realizing why she wasn’t in her own bed.

  “I’m really sorry, but the other girl keeps cancelling, and we have to do her work too. Oh, I forgot to tell you, Kitty asked me to come in on Saturday. We can still go out on Friday though.” Emma handed her a robe that was a little short on her—barely decent, in fact. “Breakfast is ready. I’m sorry; I’m in a bit of a hurry. I can sit down for a few minutes…Sorry, I know this isn’t w
hat you had in mind.”

  “Take a moment. Breathe. It’s fine.” Emma took a deep breath when Jayce laid her hands on her shoulders. “Let’s have breakfast. I’ll put on some clothes and drive you to the store, and if you’re a couple of minutes late, blame it on me.”

  “You’re a bad influence.” Emma couldn’t suppress the smile.

  “Maybe. I learned that life is too short.” Standing in the doorway, Elvis gave an affirming meow. “See? She agrees with me.”

  “I see. I’m outnumbered.” Emma laughed softly. “Okay, girls. Let’s get something to eat.”

  They had barely sat down when the doorbell rang, the sound making Emma cringe. She got up, hesitated, and then went to answer the door.

  A neighbor on her way to work had decided to stop for a bit of chitchat and voice her irritation about the water being turned off for a few hours today due to construction on the street. Emma exchanged a few polite words with her before she closed the door again, looking relieved when she returned to the table.

  “If this drags on, you can always use my shower,” Jayce offered. “Or tub.” She hadn’t gotten to her hot bath yet, but it would be even better sharing it with Emma.

  Sometimes, she had to make herself stop, wondering if she was moving much too fast for Emma who had been so careful and hesitant to trust, back in the halfway house. Jayce understood that it would take her a little while longer to feel certain that she had firm ground under her feet. Meanwhile, Jayce wanted her to know that things were good, between them, in the long run, even if they still had that lawsuit to discuss.

  “I might do that,” Emma said with a longing look.

  Jayce ruefully admitted to herself that she might not have the same ideas. There would be time to find out. Soon.

  * * * *

  Much to Emma’s relief, Deirdre seemed to have gotten the message. For a couple of days, she returned from work finding no new message. There was hot water—this, though, was almost a disappointment, not that she needed an excuse to take advantage of the comfort of Jayce’s more spacious bathroom. No, because even though Emma’s story might be a difficult sell, Jayce still wanted her to meet her friends, regardless of the fact that they might have questions.

  Maxine had often mocked Emma in the presence of her friends for no reason. Looking back, Emma had a hard time understanding why she’d stayed so long. Maybe she’d given up on herself long before she found herself in an interrogation room, with a stranger’s blood on her hands. For longer than Emma cared to remember, she’d been blaming herself, convinced she didn’t deserve any better. That was making it so hard to accept that “better” had finally arrived. She still wasn’t sure whether she was worth it.

  Troubled by those thoughts, she went to fill Elvis’s bowl when the doorbell rang again. Maybe it was Stacy from the other side of the hallway, complaining about the inconvenience of the construction site again.

  Emma had a place where she could come and go as she pleased, lock the door behind her if she wanted to, with no one on the other side controlling the key. There was nothing much in the daily life that could truly inconvenience her.

  Jayce showing up in the middle of the night had been a wonderful surprise—maybe she wanted to do it again.

  Emma opened the door and immediately took a step backwards.

  “Hey, Emma. I’m glad you’re home.” Deirdre came inside without waiting for an invitation and walked right to the couch where she sat down. “Nice place. You really turned your life around, didn’t you?”

  Emma tightened the belt of her robe. Deirdre was only a few years older than Maxine. The similarities in looks, body language and tone of voice were disconcerting.

  “Why are you here?” she asked, aware of her voice going up a notch. “I have an early start tomorrow,” she added, faintly hoping Deirdre would react the polite way, acknowledge that she wasn’t welcome, or at least leave.

  “Don’t worry. This won’t take long. I don’t get it why you’re so antsy. You have everything now. Maxine got the rougher deal.”

  “Because she killed somebody!”

  “Well, yeah, I didn’t come to talk about that. What’s done is done. You could help me now.”

  This couldn’t be good. If Emma hadn’t known already, the uncomfortable hard beat of her heart would have alerted her. She might feel a tad awkward about being in a room full of cops, but Deirdre made her uneasy in a visceral way—maybe because she was related to the woman who nearly succeeded in ruining her life.

  “Why would I do that?”

  Deirdre’s gaze was calculating. “One small favor and I’m out of your hair. That’s not so bad, is it? I assume you want to keep all the pretty things that are in your life now. Look,” she opened her bag and retrieved a wooden box about six by four inches, “You keep this for me for a few days, I’ll come get it, and that’s it.”

  “What’s in that box?” Emma asked suspiciously.

  “You don’t need to know. In fact, it’s better if you don’t. It’s not going to blow up on you.”

  “Why would I believe anything you say?”

  “Believe it or not.” Deirdre put the box on the table. “Maxine really cared about you. She says I can trust you.”

  Emma wasn’t sure why she should take Maxine’s word for anything. She didn’t know what to say, other than she wanted Deirdre gone from her apartment, and Maxine from her mind, but the words didn’t come out. She had felt like this before, like she couldn’t do anything but watch the events unfold, numb, paralyzed.

  “I can’t. Why would you come to me?”

  This was beyond ironic. Emma had heard the stories of other women who had served their sentence and then were contacted by former associates, dragged back into the life they wanted to leave behind. She’d been certain she wouldn’t be one of them.

  “Get out, now, and take your package. Whether it’s drugs, or whatever, I don’t want anything to do with it.”

  Deirdre smiled. “Maxine also told me you’d be difficult. She might have put up with this shit, but I won’t. You have no idea how much trouble I can make for you in your little paradise here. You don’t open it, you don’t ask any questions. In a few days, I’ll come pick it up. That’s all you need to know. Nice talking to you, Emma.” She leaned close enough for Emma to shrink back. “This box had better be in the same condition I gave it to you. Otherwise…well, you don’t want to find out.”

  Long after the door fell into the lock, Emma stayed motionless in her chair, unable to do anything but stare at the conspicuous box as if it might jump at her at any moment. Maxine wasn’t that kind of criminal though, and she had nothing to feel vengeful about. Something to do with money, drugs—Maxine had shared with her that she had dealt a little. She claimed she had stopped long before they started dating. Emma wasn’t buying those reassurances any longer. Whatever was in that box, it was bad enough that Deirdre needed it out of her house for a few days and…what if she needed another favor after that? And another?

  Oh God, what have I done?

  Reality started to sink in, that someone could suspect her no matter how careful she acted from this moment on, if she got her prints on the object in question, or if she tried hard to avoid it. Given her past experience with Maxine, she had no reason not to believe Deirdre when she said she could cause her trouble.

  She couldn’t go back to prison, not for one day.

  Maybe that nagging inner voice had been right, and she didn’t deserve any better.

  * * * *

  Work was helpful, but even in the cheerful surroundings Emma found it incredibly hard to keep the smile on her face. After a couple of customers in need of condolences cards came in, she excused herself and cried in the small kitchen.

  “I’m sorry. It’s like a conspiracy, they’re all coming in today.”

  When she didn’t get any answer, Kitty came closer.

  “Emma, is everything all right? Is that person still bothering you?”

  “Yes…no.”
She struggled to get her bearings again. “I am so sorry. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  “Have you talked to Jayce yet?”

  “There was no time,” Emma said, praying that Kitty would buy her evasion. She wasn’t so lucky.

  “Make time. She can help you, and she will. There’s no shame in asking someone who knows about these things.”

  “Jayce doesn’t know everything.” For one, she didn’t know about the box Emma had finally hidden in the back of her closet, but that wasn’t how Kitty interpreted her words. She pulled herself a chair and sat across from Emma.

  “I won’t pretend I know the first thing about everything you went through with that woman, but I want you to know we care about you. So if you need anything, just say it. Whatever she told you, or the sister, you don’t need to believe any of it.”

  Emma got up and washed her face at the sink. “I’m okay. I need to go back to work.”

  The steady stream of customers slowed down in the afternoon, allowing her to put up some more shamrocks.

  Emma knew she’d been incredibly lucky. Most of the time, she felt lucky, but every once in a while, it seemed like all that luck was a house of cards that could come tumbling down any day. Deirdre and that stupid box could be the beginning, and what would come after that?

  “That looks nice. You really have a knack for this kind of thing,” Kitty observed.

  “Thank you. About earlier…”

  “It’s okay. I made some coffee, for when you’re finished up there.” Kitty was silent for a moment, and Emma continued to fasten the garland.

  “Can I ask you an awfully personal question? Maxine…was she ever violent?”

  She could have made a lame joke right here, something like “I was expecting that kind of question from the cop I’m dating,” but instead, Emma was quiet, something that didn’t go unnoticed with her inquisitive boss. The silence dragged on long enough for Kitty to become worried, Emma was sure. She needed to come up with an answer, any answer.

  “Maxine got angry sometimes,” she said. “Shoving people, that kind of thing. Not all the time, but…I guess you could call it that.”

  Emma was angry at herself, right this moment, for not seeing the signs when she still could have gotten out, before something terrible happened—for letting Deirdre in last night. She really did attract trouble, didn’t she? She stepped down from the ladder, reluctantly facing Kitty. “How did you know?”